An Apology
by RipperGiles
Summary: Cordelia's sister decides Angel is just depressed and needs a lover...


Angel: I'm Sorry  
  
Sometimes, inside, the demon rises to demand and devour. A dark force of   
insatiable desire surfaces like a leviathon from the depths. Most times, will   
alone is enough to control it. Good and evil fight the battle in an unknown   
moment of privacy and good lives another day--barely. Then there are times   
when the doubt and hurt weaken the will. All those years of unspoken pain   
and solitary days can burn a man's mind and leave him vulnerable. One   
night of lonely memories, rushing through the mind, goading and torturing   
what is left of the soul, is sufficient to weaken the defenses. Evil has the   
advantage on this battlefield. Once free, it will kill mercilessly and the only   
way to fight, the only way for good to win, is to become like the evil. Then,   
the war is lost. A single moment of weakness and the good is gone forever.  
  
  
It was another day, in an ordinary week, part of an endless month. Cordelia   
had dragged Angel to the party, assuring him that he would be all right.   
Three weeks ago she and Wesley had announced their undying love for each   
other. Since then, Cordelia had taken it upon herself to find Angel a   
companion—as long as he promised "not to do the horizontal rumba" as she   
put it.   
  
The problem was, as always, Angel felt so distant and removed from this   
sparkling world of mating rituals that he could talk to nobody. As the   
evening wore on, he felt increasingly alone. The smiles and sounds of people   
enjoying themselves simply made him aware of his role. He should not be   
here. What could he promise a woman? He was attractive and desirable but   
there could be no sex. His personality was dark and brooding with the   
occasional violent mood swing: if you could call vamping a mood swing.   
Then there was the need for her to give up her life in order to put up with the   
dangers of his. Add to this, the sudden lack of picnic opportunities and, well,   
there was one conclusion.  
  
In all, he was better patrolling—alone.  
  
Then, Cordelia's sister had shown up. She was shorter and fuller figured   
than Cordelia with black hair to her shoulders but the same angular face and   
deep eyes. "You'd have to be dead not to fall for her," Angel had   
commented wryly but Cordelia had ignored him and introduced them   
anyway. He was right.   
Ragan was three years older than Cordelia and a trained psychiatrist. She   
talked softly and listened attentively, occasionally flashing the Chase   
winning smile.   
  
Angel was tired of fighting women; first Buffy, then Kate. In the office, it   
was Cordelia. To him, this beautiful, intelligent woman, who hung on his   
every awkward word, called to his soul. In this vulnerable state, whilst   
Angelus watched, Angel allowed himself to dream. He told Ragan   
everything. He told her about his curse, about Buffy and Angelus, about his   
loneliness and about how he could never lose control. He even allowed   
himself a fourth whisky despite not eating for three days.   
  
  
In a dark alley, a gifted child stared at the sky from his tiny bedroom. His   
mother, a tired woman in her late twenties, stroked his hair. With sad eyes,   
he looked at her and spoke softly.  
  
"The powers that be only let you mess up once Mom."  
  
She never understood her son and only cared, like all mothers, that he was   
not happy. She pulled him close and gently cried into his hair. She hoped she   
could hold him tight and chase his demons.  
  
  
Angel was crying. Perhaps the whisky and an evening of confessions had   
weakened him.   
  
He stood in a corner of his flat, aching. Ragan gently stroked his broad   
shoulders and felt him quiver a little. She wrapped herself around him,   
trying to protect him. Cordy and her new boyfriend were the only people this   
tortured man had. He shut out even them from his darker fights. She   
wondered how lonely a man could be and still live. He believed he was a   
vampire with a demon inside him and her psychiatric training told her what   
this meant.  
  
Unable to sleep at normal hours, a feeling of separation from humanity and   
an inability to have sex were all classic symptoms of depression. There   
were, of course, many reasons for depression. Loss, disillusionment,   
loneliness were just a few. Inside, she felt she knew. He was tremendously   
alone. Clearly, he had entered a depressive-isolation cycle. He was lonely so   
he was depressed. In his depression, he isolated himself. Isolated, he became   
lonelier and more depressed. She knew, all he needed was the love of a   
good woman. Ragan hoped her fiancé would forgive her as she began to run   
her hands around to Angel's chest.   
  
  
"No we cannot intervene again," the woman said.  
"Indeed, Angel was given a second opportunity by us before," her   
companion agreed.  
  
The boy stepped forward and gazed up at the silvery people.   
  
"Please! He's a good man."   
  
"His deeds are yet to prove that," the man said, turning to leave, mist licking   
his legs.  
"At every opportunity, he fails us and refuses to fight the darkness within   
him."  
  
"Then, ok, then let him fight it. OK? Let it out but don't kill him. Let them   
fight. Please?" The boy's words hung in the ether for a moment longer than   
seemed natural. He had the power.  
  
"Why should we?"  
  
"I, I don't know. My Mom says that my dad was a good man and I shouldn't   
hate him for leaving us behind because he had big problems. She says he   
simply couldn't cope any more. I forgave him for beating on Mom," the boy   
finished quietly.  
  
  
Angel woke next to Ragan. Cordelia was shouting at him.  
  
"Oh God! What have you done?" Cordelia ran to her sister and pulled her   
from the bed. Ragan stumbled drowsily across the room. "We have to get   
out of here—now Ragan."   
  
The pain tore through Angel as he fell naked from the bed, writhing and   
straining, his muscles ready to tear.   
  
Cordelia pulled at the lift doors but the lift had gone up. She pressed the   
button and turned to stare…at Angelus. He stood, naked, smiling, his yellow   
eyes boring into the terrified girls, searching for the centre of their fear.   
Slowly, he licked his fangs.  
  
Ragan screamed as Angelus laughed.  
  
"It is SO good to be me again. Who'd have thought it? A few days without   
eating, a few drinks and Mr Nice Guy, the one everyone seems to like, lets   
his true self show again." Angelus spun around, his arms wide. "Oh and, I   
don't care what they say, the kill is just as sweet as Miss Chase." He grabbed   
at Ragan and tore her from Cordelia.  
  
Breathing on her neck, he smelt the fear pounding through her veins.   
  
"Angel?" Cordelia said. Surprised, Angelus paused. She was speaking to   
him, but not looking into his eyes. "If you leave tonight, don't ever speak to   
me again."  
  
"Fine," he said and bit into the fleshy neck. It was so sweet, almost heady.   
He gorged himself on the bloody life fluid, drinking deeply, satiating his   
demonic desires without care or thought.  
  
"Not fine," Angel said as he stepped from the lift.  
  
"Who?" Cordelia began, then thought better of it and added "definitely, not   
fine. Sic him new guy."  
  
Angelus dropped Ragan, momentarily confused, and Angel leapt, their   
naked bodies impacting and dropping to the floor, smashing the bed as they   
fell. Angel and Angelus raged at each other. Angel spat his fury, born of his   
lonely life, at the demon wrestling him. Angelus fought for his freedom, for   
his right to live. Vampire on vampire, their enraged faces inches apart as   
they rolled and tore at each other.   
  
"No more penance for you," Angel snarled.  
  
"You wanted her too, just in a different way," Angelus said. He pushed   
Angel's face into the blood on the floor and laughed. Angel, his face   
streaked with the blood, shook hard and bit into Angelus's neck, tearing   
dead flesh and goring him deeply.  
  
"Ah, ah ah! The dark devours the light." Angelus bit back, deeper, harder.   
Angel growled, his strength weakening. Angel pushed hard at Angelus but   
the enraged demon pinned him to the floor.   
  
"Which one of you is Angel?" Cordelia asked. She stood above the   
vampires, a broken bed leg in one hand, raised to staking position. Angelus   
reached up.  
  
"Give me the stake Cordelia, I'll kill Angelus!" Angelus said.  
  
Angel stared up at her. Her mascara ran down her beautiful face. How could   
he have hurt her and her sister like this? She was shaking with rage and fear.  
  
"Stake us both Cordelia. Don't take chances—do it!"  
  
She did. She focused her anger into a single blow, thrusting the bed leg   
through both vampires.  
  
  
Angel stood waist deep in swirling mist. It caressed him to full awareness   
and he looked around. The smell of jasmine drifted from an archway as a   
woman and a man entered the chamber. They circled Angel who tried to   
cover his naked chest.  
  
"Once again, laid bare for all to see hmmm?" said the man. "There will not   
be another chance for you and your darkness Angel, or is it Angelus? Decide   
who you are and face the consequences. A neutral man benefits nobody.   
Answer me now, correctly and I will send you back."  
  
For an instant, Angel saw everything he had done. He saw mutilation and   
gore. He saw the innards of small children and the workings of Drusilla's   
mind. He saw Jenny. He also saw Darla and the grateful tears of Buffy. He   
saw vagrants and women he had saved. For a sweet moment, he could see   
his own soul, tarnished and flawed but still swirling with pearlescent colours   
of vibrant hope. He could judge himself. He knew who he was. Clarity.  
  
"I'm Liam, flawed and human. Send me back so I finish what I started."  
  
  
Wesley and Cordelia were cleaning out the office when Angel arrived back.   
For a moment no one spoke.  
  
"Ragan?" Angel asked.  
  
Cordelia walked up to him and slapped him. She turned, turned again and   
slapped him harder. Then, she left, her face harder than stone.  
  
"Err, Ragan is going to be just fine…" Wesley started.  
  
"Angel." Angel finished for him. "It won't happen again."  
  
Wesley faced up to Angel and pulled a stake from inside his jacket. He   
pulled off his glasses with his free hand. "If you should hurt Cordelia, or her   
sister, like this again Angel, it will be the last time you hurt anyone." Wesley   
left.  
  
Angel stared at his lonely world in disarray around him. "I'm sorry," he said   
sotto voce.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
